


The Vortex Boys

by Aintfraidanoghosts



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Alternate Universe - Human, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:36:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aintfraidanoghosts/pseuds/Aintfraidanoghosts
Summary: Band AU! Rose Tyler, a writer for Smash Hits magazine, gets the opportunity of her career when she's chosen to go on tour with the new teen sensation The Vortex Boys. What happens when appearances aren't really that deceiving after all?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first entry for [trope_bingo](http://trope_bingo.dreamwidth.org) & it filled in the "au:band" square. If you're at all curious about my card, you can click [here](http://onabearskinrug.livejournal.com/54935.html)! It’s complete, but I’m doing some small edits before importing it here! MANY MANY MANY thanks to timelord1, kelkat9, who_in_whoville, callistawolf, and kahki for everything they did to help with this fun story!

Rose Tyler often forced herself to admit that there were several benefits to being a writer for Smash Hits magazine. First of all, the compensation was more than adequate for someone with a Bachelor's degree in journalism from NYU. She was able and even encouraged to wear jeans to work. Plus, there was a Starbucks right in the lobby of her building. Her boss was friendly and encouraging, and she had struck up an easy working relationship with a few of her coworkers.

Rose repeated these words like a mantra every morning as she steeled herself to face the day of vapid, artificial teen sensations and celebrities. She had graduated at the top of her class and had always dreamed of being an investigative reporter. However, upon finding no job prospects in New York and only marginally more in London, she finally had to cut her losses and accept a position writing about One Direction's favorite ice cream flavors and where they buy their preferred brand of socks.

It was soul-crushing, mind-numbing work, and she was _desperate_ to escape.

However, escape just was not possible. She had no prospects for an investigative story that could make her visible to more... _reputable_ periodicals. Despite her decent wages, her financial situation was a bit tight. She had student loan payments to contend with after attending an American university, along with trying to make a deposit on a flat in the city so she could finally move out of her mother's place. She was stuck for the moment, and despite trying to make the best of her situation, she felt restless and frustrated more often than not.

Rose sighed as the shiny elevator doors opened to her bustling office. She plastered on a fake smile as she made her way to her desk. She'd barely put down her latte and purse before her editor, Sarah Jane Smith, peeked her perfectly groomed head out of her office and gave Rose a warm smile.

"Rose! May I see you in my office?"

Rose returned her smile, reminding herself that her editor was definitely a perk to the job, having taken Rose under her wing early on and always encouraging her to strive for more. "Of course, Ms. Smith!" 

"How many times have I asked you to call me Sarah Jane?" she asked as she ushered Rose into the bright room and took her seat behind the desk.

"Oh, fine...slave driver," Rose teased back. "What's going on?"

Sarah Jane's grin widened, and she leaned forward on the desk, excitedly. "I just got the _exclusive_ story of the _decade,_ Rose! Have you heard of the Vortex Boys?"

Rose wrinkled her nose in distaste. "You mean that new boy band? The ones that can't be bothered to write out an entire word? _U-R My Everything?_ "

Sarah Jane had to pinch her lips to hide her smile. "Yes, those are the ones. We were able to get a spot on their tour for one of our reporters. She's gonna write about the _real_ Vortex Boys. Get to know them, talk about their inspirations and how they prepare for performances, what they like and don't like. This is going to be a _huge_ seller!"

Rose tried to muster up some enthusiasm, but the assignment honestly sounded horrifying. "Sounds great! Congratulations!"

"I should be the one congratulating _you,"_ Sarah Jane told her with a smile.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"Because you're taking on the story, Rose."

Rose couldn't help the guffaw that escaped her throat. "Oh, Sarah Jane, that's a good one. You really are one of my favorite things about this job. Now, honestly, please tell me you're sending Reinette..."

"Absolutely not!" she replied. "Reinette is good for one thing, and that is batting her eyelashes at tour managers. _You_ have talent. You have a way of getting to the bottom of things, of digging deep and getting the _real_ story. And your grammar is impeccable. I want _you,_ Rose."

"I don't know the first thing about this band! Except they're _way_ too pretty and that their ridiculous song plays about fifteen times a day on the radio..."

Her editor smiled and reached into a drawer, pulling out a thick paperback and dropping it down in front of her. " _Into the Vortex,_ the unofficial biography of the Vortex Boys. John, Jack, Adam, Rory, and Mickey. Go home, learn everything you can about them, and pack. You're meeting them in Cardiff and your train leaves tomorrow."

"Sarah Jane," Rose pleaded, giving one last-ditch effort to get out of the assignment. "Please, I'm not right for this..."

"Rose," she began, reaching over to grasp both of her hands. "You are better than all of this. I know you want more, and something like this could set you apart. Experience is so important in this field, even if you think no one will take you seriously. I promise that this will only be good for you."

She glanced up and met her editor's warm brown eyes. Sarah Jane was her mentor and friend, and had never given her bad advice. She had even had an investigative reporting job, before she'd settled down with her husband Tom and their two boys, Peter and Colin. She'd been in the business for a long time, and Rose ultimately trusted the older woman's judgment.

Sighing, she picked up the thick book and stood up from her chair. "I hope you know what you're doing to me."

"Torture, I realize it," she answered with a smile, handing Rose a manila envelope. "There are your travel arrangements, the card for the expense account, and an outline of what we want the article to include. It's loose, so use your discretion."

"How long will I be gone?" 

"It's a summer tour...so...three months?"

"Three months?!"

"Rose," Sarah Jane began imploringly. "You're the only one who can do this justice. I know it's not exactly Pulitzer-worthy, but we've _all_ had to pay our dues and work our way up. Being a twenty four year old editor at Smash Hits is going to get you noticed far better than being a junior copy editor at the Daily Mail. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Rose rubbed her fingertips just above her brow, trying to ward of the headache she could feel suddenly building. "I understand, Sarah Jane. Thank you, this is a fantastic opportunity. I guess I'll see you in three months, yeah?"

"Don't sound so excited," Sarah Jane told her sarcastically. "This is going to be a fun assignment. And from what I hear, The Vortex Boys are very nice and down-to-earth."

"Yeah that's what all the celebrities act like when there are cameras and reporters," Rose grumbled. "Underneath they're all neurotic, self-absorbed balls of..."

Rose trailed off, an idea forming in her head. The Vortex Boys had everyone fooled, thinking they were these well-adjusted, wholesome boys when they were most likely sex-crazed addicts. All of these teenage girls who were _so in love_ with them wouldn't even _think_ about bringing them home to mama if they knew the truth. Rose was nearly positive that under their cute, sweet boys-next-door exterior, she would find drugs, alcohol, and maybe even a sex scandal or two.

She thanked Sarah Jane once more and smiled to herself as she left, wondering if this assignment wasn't going to be her ticket out of teenybopper world after all...

******

Rose's coworkers, Lynda and Reinette, were waiting at her desk when she returned with the unofficial biography and manila envelope clutched in her hand. They both held green and white cardboard cups and were watching her every move with great interest. Lynda was smiling her usual sweet, friendly smile, while Reinette was raising a carefully-sculpted eyebrow and looking suspicious. Rose had been wary towards the perfectly-groomed blonde woman from the start. She never had a nice thing to say, she thoroughly enjoyed gossiping behind people's backs, and she treated Rose like an ignorant child every chance she got. In complete contrast, Lynda was welcoming and peppy from the start, and always coaxed a smile out of Rose even after her most depressing assignments.

"Did Sarah Jane want to talk to you about your last story on R-Patz? Because I told you before, it could have been _much_ peppier..." Reinette began before Lynda cut her off.

"Oooh, Rose, The Vortex Boys?" she asked excitedly, picking up the book on the desk and flipping to the center pages of glossy photos. "They're so cute! Are you doing a story on them?"

"Sort of..." she replied vaguely while she gathered her belongings. Lynda couldn't keep a secret worth a damn, and she wouldn't trust Reinette with her library card, let alone something this important to her career. She decided not to talk about her expose and just give them the basic run down. "I'm sort of...well...covering their tour for the rest of the summer..."

Reinette cocked her head to the side. "I'm not sure I heard you right...I'm sure Sarah Jane didn't pick _you_ to write The Real Vortex Boys article...?"

Rose smiled sweetly. "Yeah, she did. I'm meeting them in Cardiff tomorrow."

Lynda squealed and rushed over to give Rose a hug. "That's brilliant, Rose! Congratulations! Oh, this is so exciting! They are _so_ dreamy!"

Rose laughed. "I don't know about that. Not really my type, these pretty boys. I prefer the chiseled Roman God look myself. Thoroughly masculine and manly." She let her eyes skim over the cover. "None of these boys fit the bill."

"I think ten million girls worldwide would disagree with you on that," Reinette replied with a sniff.

"Well, I guess there's no accounting for taste, is there?"

Reinette scoffed. "Excuse me, but I really must talk to our editor. Rose, have a lovely trip. Try not to do anything...well... _unbecoming._ You are representing Smash Hits magazine."

Rose had to bite back her desired retort. "Don't worry Reinette...I won't do anything you would do."

"Good," she said, moving towards Sarah Jane's office. Rose quickly hugged Lynda once more and promised to text constantly, even to try and get them all together when they came to London.

She entered the elevator and was just able to make out Reinette's indignant "Hey!" just as the doors closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the boys get to know each other.

_"Notes for The Real Vortex Boys..."_

__

Well, Sarah Jane, I've got my work cut out for me. The Vortex Boys are the typical manufactured, artificial boy band based around a vaguely psychological formula for optimum financial rewards. Their manager, Harold Saxon, has done the same with other groups and is considered something of a mogul. The most popular ones seem to be Jack Harkness, the Heartthrob, and John Smith, The Leader. They have the most solos and are always in the forefront of the dancing. Both are marginally talented, I would even say that Jack's dancing is above average. He's a charmer, obviously coached in the ways of being chivalrous and old-fashioned. He kissed my hand and pulled out my chair, was highly complimentary, and even threw in a few legitimate French phrases to try and impress me.

John didn't say much, but he kept the group together during rehearsal and picked up quickly on new material. His voice is surprisingly nice, and sadly I saw first-hand that none of them lip sync. He seems to be the most musically talented, knowing instantly who was off-key and being able to give them the correct pitch. I caught him staring at me a few times, maybe he doesn't like outsiders coming into their little Boy Band universe. Whatever, I'll have to give you more on him when I have it.

Adam Mitchell seems to fit the Bad Boy role nicely, so nicely that he gives off the vibe that he's trying too hard. He's a bit rude and far too flirty. He's conceited and obviously considers himself God's gift to women. I may or may not have smelled vodka on his breath. He wears a black leather jacket that seems like it belongs to his older, cooler brother, his shirt is 

always _open (if he's wearing one at all) because everyone needs to see his rippling abs and he wears sunglasses all the time. Even indoors. Even at night. Even indoors at night. Not exactly a winner, this one._

__

Mickey Smith is the comic relief, The Funny One. He cracks jokes and is goofy and doesn't seem to take the band very seriously, hardly surprising given the material.

Rory Williams is obviously The Shy One. He was quiet when introduced, didn't say much in rehearsal and even when he tried to, Superiority-Complex-Adam hurled not-heavily-veiled insults in his direction and Rory didn't say much after that. I do wonder if he's a bit slow, maybe has a learning disability of some kind. I'll keep my eye out.

Day one leaves me unimpressed. This is me hoping day two is better.

Sincerely, Rose"

Rose clicked "send" and smiled a bit to herself, counting slowly to ten under her breath...

She picked up her ringing mobile just as she hit "eight."

"Sarah Jane!" she said brightly. "Did you get my email?"

"Rose," her editor huffed. "What exactly are you trying to pull here?"

"Well, you said you wanted to see the _real_ Vortex Boys! I was just giving you my first impressions..."

"It sounds to me like you're actively searching out anything negative that you can find..." Sarah Jane trailed off for a moment before groaning. "Rose, you aren't trying to write an expose, are you?"

Rose's heart began to race in panic. How had she managed to be so transparent? "Sarah Jane..."

"No, Rose, listen to me..." she began sternly. "This is _not_ the place to achieve your agenda. Our readers do not want to read that Adam is an alcoholic or that Jack is a womanizer or that Rory has a learning disability. They want to know what they're like _off-camera_ , how they treat people, what they eat, and above all, that their little fantasy bubble of these nice guys can't be popped."

"Well, what if they _are_ all morons?" Rose protested. "Then what am I supposed to write?

"They won't be morons, Rose, not around a member of the press. If they are, then no one wants to know it. There's a lovely little picture painted to millions of teenage girls and all they want is to make it prettier, not to splash blobs of black across it, do you understand?"

Rose sighed and settled back against her pillows. "I do, Sarah Jane, I do. I just...wouldn't it be nice to give it a bit of an edge? A different angle?"

"Not at Smash Hits, Rose. Besides, this is only the first day! You barely spoke to them, you didn't even give them a chance! You're supposed to be spending time watching and talking and observing. And if it turns out that they're horrible human beings, well...just don't print it here, all right?"

"Right," she replied, defeated. "Well, thanks for the help. I'll work on some notes tomorrow and we'll talk...same time?"

"Same time. Thanks for...diving in, Rose...Adam really always wears sunglasses?"

Rose laughed. "He does! I don't know what to do about him! He won't even put on a shirt when it's raining outside!"

Sarah Jane let out a little giggle. "Oh, Rose..."

"Yeah, I know. Give Tom and the boys my love."

"Of course. Enjoy your night, we'll talk tomorrow!"

******

Reinette clicked off the conference line after it was evident that both parties had hung up the phone. So Rose was trying to put the Vortex Boys in a bad light, expose something that Reinette was sure wasn't even there. She'd been following their career for months now and was sure that they were the nicest guys in the universe. Especially John. With his soulful brown eyes and gorgeous smile...Reinette shivered at the thought. How could he be anything _but_ wonderful?

At least Sarah Jane had shut her down. Still, she knew Rose was ambitious. Sarah Jane couldn't stop her from writing a second piece and selling it to the highest bidder. The right words whispered in the right ear could ruin a career, and Reinette would not let that happen to The Vortex Boys, especially by some twenty-two-year-old stuck-up, no-talent bint.

She knew how to get information out of people, to get people to trust her, so Reinette vowed to keep an eye on Rose and make sure to stop her if she stepped one _toe_ out of line.

******

Rose clicked off her mobile and sighed, tossing it down next to her on the bed. He first day on the road had been...interesting, and certainly not as bad as she'd made it seem in her notes. Adam had been borderline intolerable, but certainly nothing more than she had dealt with in college. Jack had made her giggle with his over-the-top, "Hello, Captain Jack Harkness, and you are...?" Mickey talked to her like they were old friends, and Rory seemed sweet, even though he hadn't said much to her.

John, however...well, she could see why millions of girls and plenty of women were head over heels in love with him. He was far more gorgeous in person than in any of his photos, with his sparkling brown eyes, slim build, and hair that she very nearly sank her fingers into on many occasions. He'd been a ball of energy the entire rehearsal, never ceasing in his motions and when he _sang_...Rose had felt her heartbeat increase during _several_ of his solos.

They all worked well together and got along well, they treated the band and the staff like they were friends and equals. They laughed and joked and took mistakes in stride. No one tried to upstage the others. Rose actually found herself concerned that she wouldn't be able to find anything to write an expose about.

Rose was still planning the article, she couldn't waste an opportunity like this. She decided to focus on Adam, as he seemed to be the weakest link in the group. Even if she couldn't get them all, he was the most likely to have hoards of issues that she could shed light on.

She grabbed her laptop and was about to start making notes when a pounding on her door caused her to yelp and nearly fall off the bed. She scrambled over quickly and peered out of the peephole, only seeing a pair of lips that would have been unrecognizable had she not spent the entire afternoon staring at them and only half-heartedly trying to banish the traitorous thoughts about feeling them against hers.

Rose opened the door and tried not to look too excited that a gorgeous man with _really_ great hair was standing on the other side. John grinned at her and she had to make a conscious effort not beam back at him. He had charisma and oozed charm, but not obnoxiously. It was obvious that he was magnetic, that people were drawn to him, and Rose didn't want to admit that she was not immune.

"Hi, John," she said with careful control over her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," he began, tucking a hand into his brown-and-blue pinstriped trouser pocket and scratching the back of his neck with the other. "We were about to have dinner and Jack may have... _mentioned_ that you might not have plans...I mean, not that you're, you know, a hermit or anything, but since you just got into town we thought someone should come ask you if you wanted to join us...?"

Rose felt her small, courteous smile spread into a full-blown grin, her tongue tucking between her teeth without conscious thought. He was adorable, babbling and nervous, nothing like the commanding presence he had on stage and she found him incredibly endearing.

 _No,_ she scolded herself. _Professional, Rose Tyler. You would actively destroy his career if you had the chance. Pull it together._

John's eyes zeroed in on her mouth and she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Her entire body flushed at the tiny, innocuous movement and an image of her laving her tongue across the skin of his throat accosted her so fiercely that she had to steady herself against the door.

 _Well,_ Rose thought. _So much for 'pretty boys' not being my type._

"That's sweet of Jack to think of me," she said. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, just to my room," he replied with a grin. "The one drawback to being the one on my own this time, I have to host dinner. Fish and chips okay?"

"They're brilliant!" Rose exclaimed, feeling her grin widen. "I'll just need to grab my key and my mobile...where's your room?"

"Oh, I'll wait for you," he said, his voice going a little soft at the comment. "We can walk down together. Never know what sort of...dangers are lurking around the corner of this three-and-a-half star hotel. You might...run head first into a housekeeping cart or something."

Rose laughed and noticed his smile widen at her reaction. "Those housekeeping carts are menaces, aren't they?"

"Oh, Rose Tyler, you have no idea," he replied, and she shivered a bit at the way her name rolled off his tongue. She turned to hide her surely flaming cheeks, leaving the door to her room open in a silent invitation for John to follow her in. He took the hint and Rose heard the door click softly shut behind him.

"So, what brought you to write for Smash Hits?" John asked in a conversational tone. Rose turned and saw him leaning casually against the wall, both hands now tucked into his trouser pockets and his Converse-clad feet crossed at the ankles.

Rose also noticed, for the first time, the threadbare white t-shirt emblazoned simply with "fun." in faded black letters. The shirt was so thin it was practically see-through, and she actually felt a stab of disappointment at the outline of a slim white vest underneath. The shirt looked like it could be at least five years old, and she knew from her job that the group hadn't hit the mainstream until the year before.

"Best job offer at the time," she replied before offering a teasing smile. "So the record company says you can advertise other groups now?" She spun around towards the bed, gathering her key and phone and tucking them into the back pocket of her jeans. When she turned back around, she couldn't keep her grin from widening at John rather obviously tearing his gaze quickly back from the vicinity of her bum.

"Hmmm? Oh, the shirt," he replied. "I've been a fan for _years_. Practically since they were babies."

"Don't the old fans usually desert a band once they get a number one song?" Rose asked him playfully, nudging him with her shoulder as she walked by.

"Well, that would be a bit hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?" he replied, following her out of the room and into the hall. Rose started a bit when he grasped onto her hand and led her towards the elevator. Not only was the contact unexpected, but the fact that Rose didn't mind one bit was also something that shocked her. His grip was cool and strong and so _comfortable_ that Rose actually questioned her ability to let it go in the future.

******

John and Rose chatted amiably on the way down to his room, which ended up being almost directly below hers. She knew a bit about him from the biography, but the book had mainly focused on the history of the band and their musical resumes. John had been a music student, a prodigy, earning a PhD in Musical Theory and Composition at the tender age of twenty four before auditioning in an open call for the record label on a whim. This had earned him the nickname of "Doctor" among the group and their crew. They talked a bit about their college experiences before he opened his door and an oddly harmonious chorus of "ROOOOOOOOOOSE!" hit her like a wrecking ball and she couldn't help but laugh. 

Jack pulled her away from John and instantly wrapped her up in a huge bear hug, picking her up off the ground and causing an involuntary and unflattering squeal to escape her lips. Rory was standing off to the side when Jack finally put her down and introduced her to a pretty redhead named Amy Pond, apparently their wardrobe designer, make-up artist, and an old friend of Rory's from Leadworth. Mickey came over soon after with Martha Jones, the tour medic, offering Rose a bottle of Guinness and a plate full of greasy fried fish and chips. Jack led her over to the small table filled with condiments and introduced her to their catering manager, Ianto Jones, who apparently made the best coffee in the known universe. Adam gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, his tiny goatee scratching against her skin uncomfortably and she once again made a mental note to keep an eye on him, feeling a bit shocked when she realized that her first motivation for doing so were his wandering hands and _not,_ in fact, for the story.

The gathering was loud and raucous, but not out of control. In fact, she caught herself more than often laughing out loud at someone's joke or grinning broadly at a story from the road or the recording studio. John stuck by her side whenever he could, and she ended up staying in his room long after everyone else had left, talking about their work, music, and books until well past midnight. In fact, Rose was the one who pointed out that he had a rehearsal to attend at nine the following morning.

John walked Rose back to her room, ostensibly to protect her from renegade housekeeping carts. She laughed and squeezed his hand, reluctant for the night to end as they approached her door.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight," Rose told him. "I had a lot of fun. Everyone is so nice."

"They're brilliant," he replied, beaming. "And they're glad you're here. Not even a day and they already like you more than me."

"Well, I'm very charming," she teased, grinning at him and tucking her tongue between her teeth.

She watched as his eyes grew dark, zeroing in on her mouth like a beacon. His gaze shot up to meet hers, and Rose nearly gasped out loud at the look of supreme intensity he fixed on her.

 _Oh, my God, he's going to kiss me_ , she thought, her heart rate picking up. 

And kiss her he did, planting a kiss on her cheek as he squeezed her hand tight. She could feel the tension in his muscles, and her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as she felt his soft lips against her skin.

"Sleep well," he murmured. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah," she replied, opening her eyes and smiling at him. "In the morning."

"Good night, Rose."

"Night, John."

He gave her one final smile, turned, and walked back in the direction they'd come. His hands were once again tucked into his pockets and he looked so delectable that Rose had to forcibly throw herself into her room to keep from running after him.

Her good mood immediately dissipated upon seeing her laptop still sitting innocuously on the bed. She sighed. She'd not gotten anything useful for her story, at least nothing concrete, but she had plenty of lovely, complimentary things to send to Sarah Jane. 

She sat down on her bed, opened up her laptop, and began typing out her notes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took longer than expected for a story that is actually complete. My apologies, the new job killed me mentally for a few weeks! Hopefully I can remember to post somewhat regularly from now on!

Rose arrived at the Motorpoint Arena a bit early, showing her press credentials to the security guard. She was immediately issued a lanyard and badge that would give her nearly free reign in the tour venues. Upon seeing her puzzled look, the guard simply assured her that she'd been vouched for and ushered her into the arena.

Rose's stomach churned unpleasantly upon realizing that someone in the organization trusted her, and after so short a time period. It wasn't as though _Smash Hits_ was on par with the _National Enquirer_ by any stretch. As a general rule, they didn't want to ruin reputations or run sensational pieces, but it was a complete shock to Rose that a member of the press would be given full access after only being with them for a day.

She entered the concert area and wasn't entirely surprised at the bustle of activity around her. Their rehearsal the day before had been mostly blocking and musical practice, ensuring that the boys had their choreography and harmonies down. Today was a full dress run before the show and there must have been a million tiny details to perfect before they went on stage in less than twelve hours.

Amy and her team were with the group, putting the finishing touches on their outfits for the first few numbers. Rose couldn't stifle the giggle that escaped her throat when she saw them. The outfits were fantastic; comfortable-looking jeans and white trainers paired with coordinating blazers, ties, and fedoras, all with strategically placed sequins to catch the light perfectly. However, they looked completely out of place in the brightly-lit, empty arena, and the odd juxtaposition struck her as hilarious.

John happened to glance up just as she was within sight of the stage and grinned broadly, hopping down despite the young woman shouting her protests after him. He jogged up the center aisle and met Rose in the middle, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Hello," he said, a little breathless, presumably from the small feat of acrobatics he used to make it there.

"Hello," Rose replied, shooting him a teasing, tongue-touched smile that caused the same dark look as the night before to pass through his eyes as they once again became fixed on her mouth.

He must have realized quickly that he was starting, because he cleared his throat and met her gaze once . "How...how was your night? Did you sleep well? Have you eaten? There's food here, can you believe it? Just tables and tables of food, right back stage! And coffee, or tea, whatever you want, really, I'm sure we have...do you want to go...see? I could show you..."

Rose laughed and gestured towards the annoyed costume designer, still standing on the stage with her hands on her hips, waiting for John to return.

"Oh," he said, as if noticing her for the first time. "Right, well, I'm sure you'll be able to find it yourself..."

"I may get lost again around lunch time," she attempted to appease him, and the wide smile that spread across his face at the comment heavily implied that it worked.

"Really? Well, that's brilliant! Well..." He tugged at his ear uncomfortably. "It's not brilliant that you'll be lost, but it's brilliant that I'll be in your proximity and I happen to know exactly where the food is..."

"I'll come looking for you when I get hungry," Rose promised.

"Right," he offered. "I better...get back..."

"Probably," Rose teased.

"Yeah..." He seemed to be warring with himself, and expression of intense concentration on his face before he reached over and pulled her into a brief embrace. "Glad you made it...here. Safe. Glad you made it here safe."

"Okay," Rose said, smiling at him as he pulled back. "Blimey, but you're a huggy bunch. Don't think I won't put this in my article."

He was about to come back with a witty retort, Rose could tell, when the rest of the group finally called out, "DOC!" and beckoned him back to the stage. She could see Adam peering at them over his aviator sunglasses, practically pouting at the two of them like a toddler. Rose noticed that he was only wearing the tie and the blazer, missing the untucked Oxford that the rest of the group was wearing.

Shaking her head, Rose sat down in one of the first row seats, notebook and digital recorder at the ready, while she watched them practice some impressive, synchronized routine with the fedoras. She tried not to giggle when, every time John caught her watching him, his fedora ended up on the floor.

******

Rose watched in fascination for the next three hours as the group rehearsed. Despite the fact that she had dismissed their music early on, they were _incredible_ performers, even with the synthesized, highly-processed songs they were singing. Rose knew that the music was popular, but she couldn't help the idea that they were _better_ than this. She had learned from their biography that Jack had trained in various forms of dance since he was a child, that John composed his own music and lyrics, that Mickey and Rory were accomplished instrumentalists, and Adam was a talented stage actor. Why they weren't allowed more freedom to pursue their interests was beyond Rose's comprehension...she was positive their popularity would only grow if they could really shine.

"Miss Tyler!"

Rose jumped a bit at the sound of her name and turned. A man in a dark suit was striding down the aisle with a lovely, put-together ginger woman by his side. Rose stood as they approached her, and the man gave her a cool smile and stuck out a hand.

"I'm Harold Saxon," he said. "Manager for the Vortex Boys. Sorry I couldn't be here yesterday, I was in Hong Kong with Boy Town for their big show. Have to be a supportive manager, you understand."

"I do, Mr. Saxon," Rose replied, shaking his hand heartily. "Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get to know the group. They've been very welcoming."

"Glad to hear it. This is my assistant, Donna Noble." He gestured to the woman at his side, who smiled warmly at Rose and shook her hand. "She manages the group's day-to-day affairs. If you need anything, she's your girl."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Noble," Rose told her.

"Oh, please, it's just Donna. Don't ever call me anything that makes me think of my mother."

Rose laughed, and even the cool, polished, professional Harold Saxon cracked a smirk before addressing the flurry of personnel on the stage. "All right, everyone, take your lunches, I need a word with my guys!"

Everyone murmured their agreements and dispersed, but Rose decided to hang back and wait. She wanted to see how Harold interacted with the group and vice versa, and she was glad she did. John's shoulders were set and tense as he stood next to his manager, who seemed to be giving a generic, impersonal pep talk. Everyone looked a bit on edge, not unusual for having the Big Boss there, but the stormy look on John's face spoke of something else entirely, and Rose made a mental note to ask him about that if she ever got him alone.

She surmised that Harold had dismissed them for lunch and John instantly relaxed as he greeted Donna with affection. They conferred for a moment and Rose started a bit as both he and Donna turned in her direction. She blushed and glanced back down at her notebook, scribbling a few nonsense points down before slowly packing up her equipment. The group scattered, and Rose smiled as she noticed John lingering on a corner of the stage. She caught his eye and he grinned, gesturing towards the backstage area and she held up one finger to indicate she'd be just a moment.

"They seem tired," Rose overheard Donna tell Harold. She hadn't realized they'd come back in her direction, and her ears perked up at the hushed conversation. "And Rory's been complaining that his range has decreased. Can't we give them a little break? Maybe postpone some of their interviews or appearances...?"

"Donna, do you have any idea how much an interview with The Vortex Boys goes for these days?" Harold responded condescendingly. "They can't afford time off. _I_ can't afford to give them time off! Give Rory some tea with lemon and honey and have Martha look at his throat. They'll be fine."

"Mr. Saxon, they've barely had time to _breathe-_ "

"Trust me, Donna, they'll thank me for this later. Now, I'm putting everything in your hands. I'm off to New York, MTV is pitching me a reality show first thing in the morning."

"You're not staying for the performance? This is the opening of their tour..."

"Time is money, Donna! Call me if there are any issues, you have the number of the jet?"

"Yes, Mr. Saxon," she sighed, sounding intensely frustrated.

"Good! We'll catch up in London."

The pair separated, Donna headed back towards the stage with her shoulders slightly slumped. Rose continued to organize her bag in an attempt to look casual and realized that, despite the fact that she'd barely spoken to the man, she was not at all fond of Harold Saxon.

******

As the day progressed, Rose tried to recall if she'd _ever_ laughed so hard in her entire life. Jack turned out to be an amazing story teller, and all of them seemed to end up with him, John, and at least one innocent bystander naked. She learned that the boys were remarkably low maintenance for pop stars, and the only request from John was that the bananas were kept as far away from the pears as possible. In fact, when Adam wandered across the room with one in his hand, John sent him a glare so deadly that Rose wondered what offense pears had committed on him to make this such a personal issue.

"Hey, John, Rose..." Adam offered casually.

"You're really doing this? You've brought a pear into my bubble? Adam, we've had a talk about my bubble before..."

"So, you're having a good time so far? What do you think of the show?" Adam asked Rose, completely ignoring John's complaints.

"I don't ask for much here, and I don't think I'm being unreasonable. I mean, I haven't asked you to stop dousing every part of your body in that god-awful cologne..."

"Yeah, it looks fantastic!" Rose replied. "So how much rehearsal time have you put into it so far?"

Adam bit into the pear and John groaned. "And now I'm going to be smelling it on your breath all day! That and the cologne...it'll be like _pear cologne_ and I don't think I'm okay with that..."

"We've been working for a couple months now, actually," Adam told her, sliding his sunglasses down his nose and winking at her. Rose had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. "It's been... _very_ demanding."

"Not only are you disrespecting _me,_ but you're disrespecting Miss Tyler, and you _know_ how I feel about disrespecting Miss Tyler!"

"Oh, yeah?" Rose asked, turning to John with a teasing grin. "How do you feel about disrespecting Miss Tyler, then?"

John flushed brilliantly as Adam chuckled. "Oh, you should have heard him last night. 'Don't scare her off,' 'She's brilliant, be nice to her.' On and on!" He laughed again and pulled a flask out of his back pocket with another dramatic wink to John. "This oughta get rid of the pear smell, John. Just for you, eh?" He took a quick swig before coughing a bit. "Blimey, that's strong."

John raised his eyebrow at the action and turned towards Mickey. As if reacting to a silent communication, Mickey met his gaze and nodded, fixing what looked like a cup of tea from the beverage table. He came over and gave Rose a charming grin.

"John, Adam, Miss Tyler," he greeted, handing the Styrofoam cup to his bandmate. "Donna told us all to drink this, Adam. Says it's good for our throats."

"Really?" he asked, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Mickey plucked the flask from his hand and gave John a tiny nod. "Oh, that's not bad at all. And we've gotta sound our best if we want to get laid at the end of the night, right, guys?"

"Oh, go put a shirt on," John grumbled, placing his hand on the small of Rose's back and gently guiding her towards one of the food tables. She tried not to shiver and the surprisingly intimate touch. "Sorry about him," he murmured. "Adam requires a bit of...delicate handling. Doesn't exactly live in the same reality as the rest of us."

"Hmmm, I'd never have guessed," Rose replied, and John chuckled, handing her a plate. They each chose a few lunch items and went to sit with the rest of the group and the crew. Rose remained quiet throughout the meal, observing and reflecting on the group of people before her. It was obvious that they were close, and though they didn't always seem to _like_ each other, there was a deep bond there. They took care and watched out for one another, and it was refreshing (if not somewhat worrisome for her story) to be surrounded by people with such an obvious respect for their work and for their friends.

They went back to rehearsal after the short break, everyone still in good spirits. They began working with their choreographer, Leela. She was obviously frustrated at the group, who were energetic from lunch and were having a hard time settling back into the routines. When Leela finally snapped at Adam for adding a free-style, break-dancing ad-lib in the middle of the routine, Jack let out a low whistle and leaned over to Rory. "There's trouble in River City, my friends!"

"With a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for 'pool'," Mickey finished.

In odd synchronicity and without missing a beat, the rest of the group all belted out in gorgeous harmony, "Stands for pool!"

Immediately, their keyboard player, Jamie, began tinkling out the familiar melody and Rose couldn't stop the guffaws from escaping her as they bounced to the rhythm and sang the familiar lyrics with joy and enthusiasm _._ Donna was chuckling and shaking her head, as if this was a common occurrence and she had long ago resigned herself to the fact.

There was a cheer from everyone in the stadium when they finished, and Rose's sides were hurting from laughing so hard. She found it hard to keep the smile off her face for the rest of rehearsal, and when they were dismissed around four to rest and get ready for the show, she realized she was oddly excited for it and nearly froze. She never would have thought that after one day, she would feel giddy at the idea of attending a Vortex Boys concert.

As she left the stadium, Rose could practically see her exposé being crumpled up into a little ball and tossed out a window.

******

The electricity in the air was palpable. There were tens of thousands of fans screaming, completely inconsolable as The Vortex Boys said their final thanks and goodnights, the band playing their exit tune as the five men ran off stage, soaked with sweat but each one wearing a grin brighter than the sun. They had been phenomenal, and Rose was completely floored. The production quality of the tour was incredible, their performances were so dynamic that she wondered how they were still standing, and the energy from the fans and the music left her breathless.

John's eyes immediately locked on hers as he came backstage, a smile unlike anything she'd ever seen before spreading across his face. He jogged towards her, his gaze never straying, his smile never faltering, and Rose felt her arms coming up automatically as John grabbed her in a tight, hot, sweaty, but thoroughly wonderful hug.

She shrieked as he picked her up off the ground, playfully protesting that he was going to soak her through, but he didn't put her down and she didn't ask him to. They remained that way for several moments, him swinging her back and forth gently. She pressed her nose into the shoulder of his jacket, amazed at how _good_ he smelled, despite being a sweaty mess.

He finally put her down when the other members of the group realized that they were in their own little world and apparently decided it was unacceptable. They descended on the pair and there were hugs and praise all around until Donna rushed them back towards the dressing area.

John didn't remove his arm from around Rose's waist until Donna had finished giving her notes and praise, when they were finally dismissed to shower and change. She watched them go, the four of them who were actually _wearing_ shirts stripping out of them almost immediately. Rose grinned and decided rather quickly that, if this was how every concert was going to end, she couldn't _wait_ to attend the next one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm okay sooooo...I forgot I was doing this *facepalm*. Forgive me? Here’s chapter 4, tweaked just a teeeeeeeeeeeny bit from the original!

In case you’re interested in this sort of thing, here are youtube links to the songs they perform in the concert...

Mickey, [ABC](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ho7796-au8U), The Jackson 5

Rory, [I Want to Hold Your Hand](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKHFUKZ-IXE), The Beatles 

Adam, [Be My Girl](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fndeDfaWCg%E2%80%9D>I%20Want%20It%20That%20Way</a>,%20Backstreet%20Boys</p>%0A%0A<p>Jack,%20<a%20href=), New Kids on the Block 

John, [Falling](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NzMocwso9s), 'N Sync 

After a whirlwind two weeks of travel, Rose had to admit that her exposé was suffering. She had gradually come to the conclusion during her time spent with the group, their band, and the crew that it would have been impossible to fake these personas and the obviously tight bonds that they shared. In fact, she was toying with the idea of basically giving up on the story all together. 

The group had done their best to make her feel welcome, and she truly did even after only two weeks traveling around Britain with them. She'd sat in on rehearsals, they'd all shared meals, and she'd spent more than a few nights on the road giggling with Amy, Martha, Donna, and drummer Melody, the only female member of the band. She always had her own hotel room when they stopped for concerts, courtesy of Smash Hits, but more often than not she either bunked with one of the other girls, lost track of time on the boys' bus, or even fell asleep with her head in John's lap and her feet in Jack's while everyone sat around, talking and trying to decompress from a performance.

Rose couldn't blame them for craving the quiet time among friends after their performances. Even she, just watching from the sidelines, had trouble coming down from the concert high and she had now seen the show no less than five times. She wondered how it was for the boys, to be on stage with blinding lights and screaming fans, giving 200% to each performance and they ever like it got old. She even asked John once, when they were lying frustratingly platonically across the bed in his room, what it was like to perform the way they did. He'd sighed and wrapped an arm around her, tucking her into his side, and told her it was never where he'd expected his life to end up. He'd left it at that and Rose, uncharacteristically, hadn't pushed him elaborate further.

John had taken to walking her back to her room after most of these evenings, leaving her with a tight hug or kiss on the cheek each time, and she was itching for him to take things further. It was intensely frustrating, these mixed signals. He held her hand constantly, was always aware of her even as they sat in comfortable silence with Rose making notes for her article or John composing his latest masterpiece. They snuggled like puppies and she'd even fallen asleep on their bus more than once, curled against him in his tiny bunk while they were supposed to be watching a movie. Despite all this, he hadn't made a move to kiss her anywhere other than her cheek or forehead. 

And as badly as Rose wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips against hers, part of her was still unsure about moving forward. They were firmly in an "affectionate friends" zone, but every time Rose thought about taking things further, she felt a gnawing anxiety along with a deep-seated thrill. He was still a member of the most popular group of the moment, he had a million girls who would probably send her death threats should she ever dare and touch _their_ John. There was also still the idea lingering in the back of her mind that she was using their friendship to gather information for an exposé, even though it had never felt that way. From the first time he shook her hand and she'd felt _sparks,_ it hadn't felt that way.

****** 

Almost two weeks to the day after Rose had first met them in Cardiff, Donna had engineered a rare free day on their behalf. They were in Glasgow, and miraculously, there were no interviews, no performances, and other than a personal training session early in the morning, everyone had the day free. Rose was sitting on her bed, surrounded by hand-written notes that she was desperately trying to organize and send to Sarah Jane when John showed up unannounced at her door. Her breath caught at the sight of him dressed in jeans, a Beatles t-shirt, a brown and blue pinstripe blazer, and white Chuck Taylors. Before she could even say hello, he gave her a wide, mischievous grin and grabbed her hand, leaning in close to her ear to whisper "Run!" as he pulled her, giggling, out of the room.

They spent the entire day wandering through the city, John hiding his trademark hair beneath a battered baseball cap and sliding sunglasses over his nose despite the slightly overcast day. Rose teased him mercilessly about taking a leaf out of Adam's book and he groaned, tucking her into his side and starting in on a lecture about the architecture of the Glasgow Cathedral. Rose snuggled into him as they walked, perfectly content to let the smooth sound of his voice wash over her. They ate lunch on a bench overlooking the River Clyde, stealing bits of each other's fish and chips as they laughed and talked.

"Did you know," he began at one point, leaning in close so she could hear him over the bustle of the city. "That, back in the 1700s, the river was shallow enough to wade across?"

"You're kidding!" Rose exclaimed, turning towards him. Her eyes widened when their noses actually brushed at the movement. She hadn't realized how close they'd scooted towards each other, how when he'd leaned in to whisper the historical tidbit he'd brought their faces in such close proximity that it would take barely anything, merely a gentle gust of wind to push her forward and press their lips together.

Their gazes locked. He reached up ever-so-gently to cup her face and she couldn't keep her eyes from sliding shut, the sudden onslaught nearly overloading her system. She had to shut out _something_ , even though the last thing she wanted to block from her view was his face.

"Rose," he murmured, his breath ghosting across her lips and making her shiver. His hand slid into her hair and she felt gentle pressure as he ever so tenderly coaxed her mouth closer to his.

A tinny version of ACDC coming from the vicinity of his pocket broke into their little idyll, and Rose jumped a bit, realizing just how close she'd come to actually kissing him. As badly as she wanted to, part of her still wasn't ready. A niggling in the back of her mind made her pull back and smile softly at his adorably confused expression.

"You better answer that," she said, putting a bit more space between them and picking up one of her now-tepid chips. She could feel his eyes on her as he did just that, confirming with Donna that he would indeed be at rehearsal the following morning at nine sharp.

As he clicked off the phone, Rose turned to him with a friendly smile. "Everything all right?"

"Oh, it's always all right," he offered, standing up from the bench and offering her hand. "Shall we continue our tour, Miss Tyler?"

"Please, Dr. Smith," she teased, relieved that they were able to return to their normal banter. Still, the feeling in the back of her mind remained, something that she couldn't identify but she was sure she didn't like.

He dropped her at her door with yet another hug and kiss on the cheek, and Rose sighed as she entered the room. Her eyes settled on the bed and she gasped as immediately, a realization overcame her.

She'd left so abruptly that morning that she hadn't had the time to clean up her work. There were pages of notes and strewn across the floral bedspread and her laptop was still open. It was then that she realized she had spent the entire day in John's presence without ever making _a single note._ Nothing mental to review later, no quick tidbit scribbled on a napkin. Rose hadn't thought about work the entire day, and she knew in that moment, without a doubt, that the feeling in the back of her mind when he'd tried to kiss her had been _guilt_. A gnawing, ugly guilt at the fact that he still didn't realize what she'd been planning, that she was somehow deceiving him. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought, and she realized the last thing she wanted to do was to deceive John Smith.

She sighed, coming to the realization that her exposé was completely doomed.

Not only was there absolutely _nothing_ to expose, but she found she didn't really want to anyway. Slowly and surely, she was falling head over heels for The Vortex Boys, and most importantly, with John.

******

Nearly a week had gone by since their "date", and Rose was itching to be alone with John again. She was finally ready to move forward or at least _talk_ about moving forward, but the day off they'd shared ending up costing the group dearly. Even their usual quiet nightly rituals had been put on hold, as the group was literally on the run for fifteen hours per day, the only break being quick meals before they ended up collapsing on the bus at the end of the day.

She still had concerns, the fact that he was a world-wide pop star certainly was at the top of her list. She was mad for him, just holding his hand made her pulse race, and he certainly seemed interested in her, judging by the way he forgot the concept of personal space whenever they were together. Even the rest of the group seemed in on the conspiracy, always making their excuses and leaving the two of them alone. Adam tended to be a bit dense, but generally a whack on the back of the head from Jack or Mickey was enough to get him moving.

There was a concert at least every other night, if not more frequently, and by the third week on the road, Rose had seen the show no less than twelve times and knew it practically better than the boys did. There was a point in the show where they selected a seemingly random audience member and sang a sweet, soulful ballad to her. Sometimes they were told in advance who to choose, if they needed to please the right investor or politician, but more often than not they chose randomly and it was amazing. Each member took a verse or the bridge and Rose knew that the young girl would undoubtably be floating on air and remember this night for the rest of her life.

Rose's theory about the group's interference with her and John was proven correct during their thirteenth show. They had just finished performing one of their more upbeat songs, _Shop Girl_ , and the screams of the crowd were deafening. The next part of the concert was their serenade, and Rory brought over the customary stool, put it in the center of their little semi-circle, and nodded to the others as Jack came forward.

"Thank you!" he told the crowd, once again eliciting an uproarious screech from the crowd. They all grinned at one another, still not used to these insane responses. "Now is the time in our show when we make a _very_ special lady quite happy. Today, we've got the special lady hanging out backstage! Rose Tyler, could you please come out here?"

She froze at the sound of her name. John, too, had gone wide-eyed, glancing around at the rest of his bandmates like they were the cause of a massive conspiracy against them. Most likely, they were.

"Aw, come on, don't be shy!" Rory coaxed, jogging over and grabbing her arms with a smile.

"Rory, no no no..." she protested as he pulled her out onto the stage.

"Trust me, Rose..." he told her, gently guiding her onto the stool.

Her cheeks were flaming as they all gathered around her, and she hid her face in her hands as the crowd cheered deafeningly. It was difficult to see the thousands of fans with the lights practically blinding her, and that made the entire ordeal marginally easier to deal with.

"I'm so gonna kill you," she murmured, starting when she realized that someone had placed a microphone in front of her and her voice echoed through the stadium.

"Now, now, Rose," Mickey said, coming forward. "At least watch the performance first. _Then_ you can kill us."

John shot her an apologetic look as the band started up a familiar tune. John groaned but joined Adam, Rory, and Jack on the choreography as Mickey began to ham it up, singing in an exaggerated falsetto that set her into fits of giggles.

_"You went to school to learn girl, things you never never knew before!"_

Jack stepped forward and belted out, " _Like I before E except after C!"_

Mickey turned back to her with a huge, cheesy grin on his face. 

" _And why two plus two makes four,_

_Now now now I'm gonna teach you,_

_All about love girl!"_

The other four were singing perfect back up, and Rose knew they must have rehearsed this song at some point, whether just for fun or for another performance she wasn't sure. John still had the small smile on his face, as if resigning to just go along with the insanity that was happening before him.

" _Sit yourself down, take a seat!"_ Jack sang. " _All you gotta do is repeat after me!"_

Rose turned behind her and watched Mickey step back with the rest of the group as they did some simple disco moves, singing the chorus with cheesy grins, and ending with " _That's how easy love can be! That's how easy love can be!"_ to a massive, screaming cheer from the audience. Rose was laughing now, she couldn't help it. They were utterly adorable, and she was growing closer and closer to forgiving them for this horrible mishap with every note they sang.

Rory stepped up next as the band once more began playing out a familiar tune that had Rose grinning from ear to ear. He gave her a friendly smile and grabbed onto her hand before singing. 

_"Oh, yeah I will tell you something_

_I think you'll understand_

_When I say that something_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand!"_

Again singing in perfect back-up harmony, the boys bounced merrily and all sang with Rory's voice prominently in the foreground. 

_"And when I touch you I feel happy inside_

_It's such a feeling that my love_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hide_

_I can't hiiiiiiiiiide!"_

They ended with another round of the chorus and Rose realized her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Adam stepped forward and belted out a verse and chorus of _I Want It That Way,_ complete with thoroughly dramatic expressions and emotional hand gestures that had everyone struggling to sing through their laughter. Jamie switched over to the synthesizer and Jack stood in front of her with completely serious, earnest expression as he began an homage to New Kids on the Block, belting out _Be My Girl._ When he finally stepped back, he physically shoved John forward with a grin and a wink, and John's answering look was murderous. A melody that Rose only vaguely recognized began playing, but John seemed to know it well if his wide-eyed accusing glance back at his bandmates and instrumentalists was any indication.

Still, Rose knew he couldn't exactly stop the concert in protest. He came around to stand next to her and took her hand, giving her a look that said plainly, _"This was not my idea, please don't slap me."_

Rose squeezed his hand and smiled. The grin he gave her in response caused a little thrill to shoot through her chest, one that spread throughout her entire body once he started singing.

" _I don't know how,_

_I don't know why_

_But girl it seems_

_You've touched my life_

_You're in my dreams_

_You're in my heart_

_I'm not myself_

_When we're apart."_

He knelt down as he sang, the entire world melting away as their eyes locked. Rose gasped at the intensity in his gaze. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Did he find some meaning in the song lyrics? He hadn't chosen them, that much was obvious, but it seemed like they were significant. Either that or he was very, _very_ good at making a woman feel like she was the center of the universe.

Most likely, it was a bit of both.

_"Something strange has come over me_

_A raging wind across my seas_

_And girl, you know that your eyes are to blame_

_And what am I supposed to do_

_If I can't get over you_

_I come to find that you don't feel the same."_

His voice caught on the last word, and his eyes never strayed from hers. She felt tears welling up in her eyes at the emotion in his incredible voice.

_"Cause I'm falling falling_

_Girl I'm falling for you_

_And I pray you're falling too_

_I've been falling falling_

_Ever since the moment, I laid eyes on you."_

John made a motion to rise, but the music continued. He glanced over at his bandmates, who were grinning cheekily at him in return. They had each only sang a verse, chorus, and bridge at the most. It seemed like they were planning to give him an entire song. He shrugged and grinned, turning his attention back to Rose.

_"I lose my step_

_I lose my ground_

_I lose myself_

_When you're around_

_I'm holding on for my life_

_To keep from drowning in your eyes_

_Girl what have you done to me_

_To make me fall so desperately_

_'Cause girl, you know that your eyes are to blame..."_

John winked at her and Rose laughed gently. It was obvious that he had changed the lyric. There was no doubt in her mind that this song had taken on a far more personal meaning than he had originally expected. There was no hiding it, so he simply ran with it, changing the words to more accurately describe them.

Rose could have swooned.

_"And how am I supposed to live_

_If I can't get over this_

_You decide you don't feel the same."_

There was a question in his eyes as he sang the last lyric. He wanted to make sure that she did, indeed, feel the same. Rose's eyes were misty as she gave him a small smile and a tiny nod. John's grin turned luminous and he sprang up from his position on one knee, grabbing her hand and dancing her across the stage joyously. Rose laughed as he spun and dipped her as the song came to a gradual close around them.

" _Can't you see that I'm falling falling_

_Girl I'm falling for you_

_And I pray you're falling too_

_I've been falling falling_

_Ever since the moment_

_I laid eyes on you."_

The cacophony of screams and applause was a rude interruption into their lovely little world. John was grinning that amazing smile that made her weak at the knees and she so badly wanted...no, _needed_ to kiss him. Instead, he backed away with a significant look, as if to say _"This isn't over."_ She shivered a bit at the promise in his eyes as he held her hand and encouraged her to take a bow. Rose laughed and curtseyed, earning hugs from the rest of the group as they all escorted her off stage and raced through their costume change.

John, however, glanced around and pulled her silently into the empty, shaded corner where he usually dressed. Before she could do or say anything, he took a deep breath and began to nervously babble as he stripped out of his clothes.

"Rose, I'm sorry, I had no idea they'd set us up like that..."

"John..." she croaked out, her mouth going dry at so much of his skin on display.

"I mean, it's completely something they would do, no doubt about it...in fact, I don't know why I'm surprised..."

"John..." she once again attempted to interrupt. He slid into a pair of well-fitting jeans and Rose thought she might die if she didn't touch him. She let her hands drift over the warm skin at his waist, both of them shuddering at the contact. He looked up at her, surprised, his eyes darkening as she pulled him closer.

"Rose," he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Shut up," she told him, standing up on her toes and pressing her mouth to his.

John's hands immediately moved to her shoulders and gripped them hard as Rose moved her mouth gently over his. She savored the sparks that shot through her body at the contact and pulled John closer, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as they came together, his warmth seeping through the thin material of her tank top. He groaned and plunged his hands into her hair, her mouth opening of its own accord as their kiss deepened.

"John!" Donna called out, causing them to break apart guiltily. "You have thirty seconds to put on a shirt and get out there! I will not have two members of the group risking hypothermia. Adam is bad enough!"

John groaned audibly as he pulled away and he ran a shaking hand through his hair. Rose felt a thrill run through her at the sight of him so affected from just a kiss. "Blimey," he muttered, turning back to the rack of clothes and pulling on his sporty slim tee and denim jacket combination. "We could have had better timing, couldn't we?"

Rose laughed and tugged at the lapels of his jacket, bringing their faces close once more. She brushed several chaste but lingering kisses against his lips, making them both shiver. She pressed her forehead against his and let out a shuddering breath. "My room after the show?"

He gasped, his eyes shooting up to search hers for a split second before he swept in for another breath-stealing kiss. "Rose Tyler," he growled, squeezing her once more before letting her go reluctantly and heading back out towards the stage. "Your room after _every_ show."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story earns its rating in this chapter!

Rose felt a teeny bit guilty at leaving the show so early, especially after she and John had shared such a spectacular kiss. Still, she needed time to prepare, and she let Donna know where she was going in case he asked her. Donna had given her a knowing smile in return and promised to pass on the message.

The hotel was across the street from the stadium, and Rose was intensely grateful for the proximity. The schedule had varied as far as their accommodations, either they were hustled back on the bus right after each concert or they stayed the night in a city if there were additional performances, interviews, or appearances they had to attend. Rose said a silent thanks that tonight they happened to be in a hotel and she didn't have to try and shag a man she was completely mad for on a tiny bunk on a bus full of people.

 _Oh, God..._ Rose thought to herself, halting in the middle of the street. _We're going to shag...and I haven't shaved my legs!_

Rose quickened her steps and made it to her room, breathless, in less than five minutes. She had another hour until the show finished, and she used the time to her advantage. She cleared the bed of her computer and notebooks and cleaned herself up as best she could. Rose was glad she'd listened to Martha and Amy when they'd gone shopping the week before. They'd absolutely insisted she buy a pretty, lacy set of black undergarments. The thought struck her as she pulled on the items that perhaps they had been in on the conspiracy as well.

As she fastened the hooks on the bra, yet another complication dawned on her. What on Earth was she supposed to _wear?_ Now that she was clean, she didn't want to put on the clothes she'd been wearing all day. But if she _changed_ it would seem like she was trying too hard, but pajamas might seem like she wasn't trying hard _enough,_ like she wasn't interested in more than just sleeping...

She froze as another sobering thought entered her mind. What if _he_ wasn't interested? What if she had read him all wrong and this was just another mixed signal? What if he just wanted to kiss? What if he just wanted to _talk?_ What if he wanted to tell her that the kiss had been a horrible mistake and they should just stay friends? _What if he didn't show up at all?_

Rose nearly slapped herself at the utterly ridiculous thoughts that were running rampant through her head. Pretending it was just another ordinary night in, she pulled on a pair of flattering yoga pants and a fitted, v-neck t-shirt, showing off a hint of cleavage without being too overt. She brushed out her hair and didn't bother reapplying her make up. He'd seen her face bare before and from the way he hadn't been able to keep his fingers from tracing over her skin, she knew he preferred it that way.

She'd just put down her hairbrush when a knock at the door made her jump and her heart begin to hammer in her chest. He'd shown up after all. Early as well, by her estimates. In fact, upon checking the room's clock radio, he seemed to have bolted across the street the moment the show ended. Opening the door, she realized the only thing missing from the closing number ensemble was his hands-free mic and battery pack. Rose grinned. Amy was going to _kill_ him for wearing the custom outfit out of the arena. The long-sleeved, baby blue cotton top had with the mesh cut-out shapes had been custom-tailored to his frame and fit him like a second skin. Amy had paired the shirts with silver warm-up trousers and custom trainers. In fact, she'd gotten a pair of Chuck Taylors made for John, grey with accents of baby blue that matched the top perfectly. 

Rose smiled and opened her mouth to greet him, but was struck dumb by the intensity in his gaze. John stepped over the threshold, cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. He let out a shuddering breath through his nose and Rose felt his body practically sag against her, the tension in his muscles seeming to uncoil gradually as they relaxed against each other and kissed, unhurried and languorously, until Rose finally had to reluctantly pull away to breathe.

"Mmm," she murmured, stroking her fingers through the still-damp hair on the back of his neck. She vaguely registered him kicking the door shut behind him and chuckling.

"I'm sorry," he replied softly. "I've just...been thinking about that all night. Kissing you again." He chuckled. "I was missing steps in the routines. Had to keep jumping around and flailing my arms like an idiot so the crowd wouldn't notice. Bloody embarrassing. Leela is going to murder me tomorrow." 

Rose grinned, John returning the expression he leaned in for another series of kisses, starting with gentle presses that turned longer and deeper, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and plunging past as she gasped, threading her fingers into his magnificent hair and chuckling when she realized it was now coarse and stiff from drying sweat.

John pulled away with a questioning look and Rose grinned, her tongue caught between her teeth. "You really did come right here after the show, didn't you?"

"What...oh, yes, well...I suppose I'm a little bit manky...."

Rose giggled. "I don't mind, but you could always use my shower...if you want." She stood up on her tiptoes and began tracing kisses up his neck, sucking his earlobe ever-so-gently and whispered, "I could join you..." in his ear.

John gasped and gripped her waist so hard it was nearly painful. "That...might not be the best idea..."

She continued to move her lips around the shell of his ear and loved the way he ducked to give her better access. "Why's that?" she asked, her voice husky as she nibbled gently.

" _God_ ," he choked out, the rough quality of his voice causing a thrill to pass through Rose's entire body. He pulled her tighter to him and began fluttering his lips against her neck. "Because...we'll never leave...and if we're going to do what I _think_ we're about to do...we are _not_ doing it in the shower..."

"Hmmm," she teased, gasping as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. "There are a lot of quality things about that shower..."

"Don't tempt me," he murmured against her neck. "My self control was _stellar_ up to this point. You are single handedly causing it to crumble little by little. And I do not want to shag you in the shower. _Well,_ " He trailed off a bit, raising his head and grinning cheekily at her. "At least, not _yet_."

"Promises, promises," Rose teased once again, giving him one last gentle kiss before pushing him towards the ensuite. "It's all yours if you want it...just don't take too long..."

"Five minutes," he promised with a quick kiss before ducking into the small room and shutting the door behind him.

Rose let out a shuddering breath and ran her hands over her flushed face. While she would have been thrilled to keep kissing John, she was grateful for the few minutes to gather her wits. She moved to the dresser and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips were bright, swollen, and shining, her cheeks were pink, and her hair was in complete disarray. She grinned and realized that she looked thoroughly snogged. Rose had her share of boyfriends and had never thought much about the debauched, disheveled look a thorough kissing session gave her, but she found she didn't mind it. Especially as it was John doing the snogging.

She paced a bit as she listened to the shower running, still debating whether or not to just strip down and join him. But, with further thought, she knew he was right. As fantastic as she knew it would be, she didn't want their first time to be in a shower. She wanted him in bed, above her, so that she could watch his face as he came apart. 

Rose shivered at the thought, and silently willed John to finish cleaning up _soon._

As if reading her mind, the shower shut off. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to arrange herself attractively, finally giving up when she heard the door to the ensuite open up and she couldn't stop herself from watching John as he exited.

Her breath caught. He hadn't dressed back in his clothes from the show, not that she had really expected him to, but the sight of him in just a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, hair damp and smelling better than any man had a right to smell made her mouth go dry and her heart start racing in her chest. 

John reached up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck in discomfort. "Erm...I _may_ not have thought this thing through entirely..."

Rose grinned and pushed off the bed, moving towards him and completely focused on the sight of him mostly-naked in front of her. He was slim, definitely not muscled like his bandmates, but it fit him. He was lithe and graceful and moved so elegantly when he danced that it seemed like second nature. His pale chest was dotted with just enough chest hair to be attractive, and his tastefully-muscled abdomen featured a dark trail just below his navel that was begging to be explored.

Rose watched him gulp as she approached and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself close to him as she took her time kissing up his neck, paying close attention to his Adam's apple. She felt a shudder run through his entire body at the contact. One hand found her hair, the other gripped at her hip as he whispered her name.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Because I have to tell you now, there's no turning back. If we do this...I can't go back to just being your friend. Because I'm crazy about you. Really, properly mad for you and..."

"John," Rose whispered, gently guiding his face down to meet hers. She whispered, "I'm sure," against his lips before kissing him once more. He sighed and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against him and Rose found her hands drifting to trace along the edge of his towel.

He shivered under her touch and the motion made the warmth that had been pooling in her stomach to flare. Before she lost her nerve, she found where the towel was tucked in and separated the rough material, letting it drift to the floor. 

John gasped and broke their kiss, his chest heaving as he gazed at her in disbelief. "I can't believe you just did that."

"What?" she teased, dancing her fingers along his hips and loving the way his eyes slammed shut and he sucked in a breath at the motion. "You could always...even the odds?"

"Oh, yes," he breathed, dipping down for another kiss as his own hands sought out her waist beneath the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Rose gasped at the sensation, her head spinning at how unbelievably good it felt to have his skin on hers. He only broke the kiss to tug the garment over her head and smooth down the errant strands of her hair and returned his lips to hers immediately. The kiss turned feverish as he mapped out her torso with his clever fingers, fingers she'd seen plucking out gorgeous melodies on guitars and keyboards and had dreamt of having on her skin. He traced gently over her waist and danced over her ribcage until he finally closed over her breasts.

John groaned against her mouth and pulled back, his eyes heavy and half-lidded, tracing over her and zeroing on her lace-clad chest. He pulled her flush against him and the feeling of so much skin pressed together was practically dizzying. She could feel his arousal through the soft material of her trousers and she found herself suddenly ravenous for the feel of him with no barriers between them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured as he fluttered gentle kisses over her face. "So, so gorgeous, so _sexy..._ "

"Bet you say that to all the girls."

Her response was meant to be teasing, gentle, flirty, but she knew instantly when he tensed under her hands that she'd struck something in him. He pulled back and gazed at her imploringly, taking her hands and entwining their fingers. "There are no other girls, Rose..."

Rose's heart swelled for him. "John..."

"No, really, I need to say this," he said, pressing his finger to her lips. "I mean, there _have_ been other girls, before...a few, in the past. But not now. Not for a while. Just you."

The question escaped Rose's lips before she even had time to process it. "Why?"

"What?"

Rose swallowed, glancing down at their joined hands. "'S just...you could have anyone you want. Any girl on the bloody planet...why me?"

John swept in and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, silencing any further protests. "Because you're Rose Tyler," he whispered after he'd pulled away. "Because you're brilliant and wonderful and your smile makes my knees wobble. Because you infuriate me and drive me mad and because..." His breath caught. "Because you look at me and see John Smith. Boring, ordinary Dr. Smith. And because of that, _you_ are utterly _extraordinary_."

Rose felt warmth bubbling up through her entire being. He was laid bare before her, physically and emotionally, and all she wanted in the world was him.

Rather than respond, Rose stepped back, offering a gentle, reassuring smile at the confused look in his eyes. She reached behind her and released the hooks on her bra. Before she could slide the straps down her arms, John realized her intentions and stepped forward, bringing his hands up to cover hers.

"No," he whispered. "Let me..."

Rose smiled at him and let him remove the black, lacy garment. His eyes took in her bare torso hungrily as he absently tossed the bra somewhere in the room and backed Rose towards the bed.

Their gazes didn't stray as Rose lowered herself down, John covering her body with his and leaning in to kiss her once again. Rose whimpered as he moved his lips almost reverently down her neck, applying the lightest suction at her pulse point and causing her hips to rock up against his. He groaned and thrust back, hitting a perfect spot that caused her to nearly see stars.

She choked out his name and brought his hands to the waistband of her yoga pants. His labored breaths increased in anticipation, and he was practically panting against her neck as he gripped the stretchy fabric. 

"Please," she whimpered against his temple.

John raised his head to briefly lock their gazes, kissing her once more before sliding his lips down her body, taking a detour at her breastbone to lavish sufficient attention at each nipple, causing her to writhe and cry out against him. Finally, his mouth reached her waistband and he began tugging it down far too slowly for Rose's taste. As every inch of skin was revealed, he trailed his lips over it, even placing an open-mouth kiss to her pink-tipped big toe and she giggled. Once he tossed the trousers somewhere behind him, he was upon her again, settling between her legs and kissing her deeply.

Rose's hands roamed over his skin hungrily, the lace of her knickers soaked through as he rocked his arousal against her. She could tell he was trying to hold back, trying not to lose control, but Rose was ready for him to. She wanted so badly for him to just shove the black fabric to the side and plunge into her heat, but she knew he wouldn't. She had to move things along before she combusted.

Rose snuck a hand down between them and grasped onto his erection, the action wrenching a long groan from John's throat as he began to thrust erratically into her hand.

"John," she whispered as she stroked him, loath to break the spell over the moment but desperate to have the final hurdle cleared. "D'you have a condom?"

His head shot up to meet her gaze, his lust-clouded expression clearing just briefly before he groaned and dropped his head to her chest. "Ah. Yes...in my trouser pocket...in the ensuite..."

Rose giggled.

"Don't you dare move," he warned mock-sternly, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks as he spoke. "Don't you move a muscle...an _eyelash._ I will be _right back._ " He pulled away with some difficulty and scrambled towards the ensuite. Within what felt like seconds, he was back, a brightly-colored packet in his hand as he stretched out alongside her once more.

Rose raised an eyebrow at his choice in prophylactic. John grinned sheepishly and showed her the package, causing her to burst out laughing. The small, multi-colored package featured Jack's face grinning cheekily back at them.

"He slipped me a few as I was leaving," John explained, tracing a hand gently up and down Rose's side. "Got a huge box of these from Hong Kong and he thought they were too good to pass up. Totally unofficial, but don't tell Mr. Saxon. Jack doesn't want him to sue the company."

"Won't say a word," Rose promised, plucking the pack from his fingers. "He's not printed on the actual condom, is he?"

John guffawed. "No, from what I understand it's perfectly ordinary. Lucky for us. I don't know if I'd be able to... _perform_...with Jack looking at me the entire time."

"Can't say I blame you...might help the girl along though..."

"Oi!" he protested. "I'm making an effort not to be insulted!"

Rose grinned and leaned in to kiss away his pout, his lips curving into a smile as she ran her hands along his body. "Was just teasing you," she whispered, stroking between his legs once again.

"Good," he gasped, taking a cue from her and moving his hands from her breasts, trailing down her torso and tracing along the edge of her knickers. He slid the soaked cloth down her legs while Rose wiggled and helped him along, kicking the garment free from her body as his hand delved into her damp curls. She gasped into his mouth as he traced his fingers gently along the sensitive skin before plunging in, circling her clit and teasing her entrance.

John groaned as he slid a finger inside of her, Rose grasping onto his arm with a strangled cry. "Fuck, Rose," he whispered, the sound of his gorgeous voice curling around the expletive causing a wave of arousal to pulse through her as he added another finger and began to stroke.

"God," she choked out, fumbling with the condom packet still in her fingers and tearing it open as she kissed him sloppily. "Please, John, want you... _please..._ "

With shaking hands, even as he ceased his ministrations, Rose grasped onto his erection and rolled the condom carefully down his length. He shuddered and kissed her deeply, moving on top of her and settling between her legs once more.

He never broke their gaze as he slid easily inside of her.

Rose gasped, her eyes closing involuntarily. This was nothing like she'd ever experienced during sex before. There was no awkward positioning, no uncomfortable friction that made her cringe. It was like he was _made_ for her, the first stroke alone sending shockwaves through her system.

"Rose," he whispered, the reverence in his voice nearly bringing tears to her eyes as he began to move against her. She gasped and locked her legs around his waist, and they both groaned as he slid in impossibly deeper. "You feel so good..."

Rose felt the pressure building between them more quickly than she'd ever felt before. She'd been impossibly turned-on during their foreplay, and every one of his strokes was hitting just the right spot inside of her to make her see stars. She was no blushing virgin, nor did she consider herself promiscuous, but the few men she'd slept with hadn't even come close to making her feel the way John was. He was pushing inside of her, murmuring breathless, broken phrases into her ear when he wasn't kissing her deeply, and everything he did was like fire through her veins.

"Ah, _Rose_ ," he moaned, one hand moving to grip her hip and one cupping her cheek so he could meet her gaze. "Rose, I'm close...I need you to..."

"Touch me," she whispered, never breaking eye contact. She covered the hand at her hip with hers and brought it slowly between them, just above where they were joined, and he began to stroke, wrenching a long moan from Rose's throat. It felt like mere seconds before she shattered, panting and clenching around him, her hands gripping his hair as he pressed hard against her and, with a low moan, came apart above her.

John collapsed, panting, and Rose's fingers immediately released the death grip she had on his hair and began stroking through it lazily. He wasn't heavy, and she welcomed the feel of every inch of their skin pressed together as he fluttered kisses against her neck and she ran her fingers through the damp, silky strands. They didn't say anything, both were quiet as their breaths slowed to a normal pace.

John broke away from her reluctantly but softened the action with a sweet, lazy grin and Rose returned the expression. She was loathe to separate from him, but also realized he had to clean up before he softened completely inside of her. She rolled onto her side as he took care of the condom quickly and turned back to her, his eyes sparkling.

"Hello," he murmured, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a deep kiss.

"Hello," she replied, still grinning, against his lips.

"Not a bad way to end the night..."

"Not bad at all. I think you may have found a new post-concert ritual."

"A brilliant one at that." He smiled brilliantly at her before letting out a huge yawn. "And far more efficient. Blimey, I'm exhausted."

"Me, too," Rose whispered, covering his hand with hers. "Will you stay?"

John's smile widened and was bright enough to light up the room. "Oh, yes," he said, leaning in for another kiss.

He got up to flick at the light switch, casting the room into darkness as Rose wriggled her way underneath the blankets. He joined her quickly and curled around her, both of them still blissfully naked, him pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck and her shoulders, warmth suffusing her as her eyes slipped shut.

"Good night, John," she murmured, feeling safer and more content than she'd ever felt in her entire existence.

He tightened his grip on her and she was able to make out, just as she was drifting off, his whisper-soft reply.

"Good night, Rose Tyler."


End file.
